


The Right Now

by yotoob



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, I will continue to add to this I guess, LOOK sometimes I just want to write smut without necessarily worrying about context, Oh look more smut, and plan on continuing to sin for some time., forgive me Father for I have sinned, smut smut smut but also thoughtful examination of power dynamics who's to say?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23881894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yotoob/pseuds/yotoob
Summary: SMUT
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 71
Kudos: 812





	1. The Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> nsfw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Fixy! (thank you for all the writing encouragement LOOK I DID IT)
> 
> dedicated to the GC who would NOT allow me to have my own thoughts on who tops and who bottoms, I guess you can figure it out for yourselves.
> 
> (whoops turns out there was more than one chapter of this)

When Eve opens her door, Villanelle is standing there.

“Oh, what the fuck?”

Villanelle shrugs, arms out wide as though they are already in the middle of the argument.

“It’s your birthday?”

“So send a card!”

Eve goes to slam the door, achieves it to a certain extent, but Villanelle gets her boot in just in time, and the door bounces back.

“Eve, why does everything have to be the most dramatic choice possible? Here I am, old friend coming to say Happy Birthday, and-”

“You had a fight with me on a bus! On the Piccadilly Line!”

“I was literally just coming to say hi. I just wanted to say hi. And then you attack me like some kind of enraged chicken and I just wanted to say hi, and then you kiss me and I just wanted to say hi and then you head butt me and I _just wanted to say hi!_ ”

Villanelle pauses, and seems suddenly aware that they are not even one minute into conversation and they are already yelling.

Eve changes tack, and hisses. “You did not, you fucking asshole, you are the dramatic one, you could have text me, you could have left a note naming a time and place, but no you just materialise on a bus, on a fucking bus-”

Villanelle rolls her eyes. “But surprise Eve? I’m not allowed to surprise you?”

“The last time you surprised me it was a fucking bullet, so no, you are not allowed to surprise me. By fucking appointment from here on out.” 

Villanelle gazes at Eve for a long second, and then holds up a finger. “Okay, understood. Hello Eve, can I book a meeting to take place in about ten seconds time?

“What?”

Villanelle turns on her heel, walks down the communal corridor, turning the corner with a backwards glance. Eve stares after her. 

Suddenly Villanelle’s voice fills the corridor, shouting as though Eve is at the other end of the street.

“EVE I’M COMING AROUND THE CORNER NOW, OKAY?”

“Jesus Christ shut up-”

“IN THREE SECONDS I WILL APPEAR, GET READY, PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THE SHOCK-“

“My neighbours you fucking asshole-” Eve marches around the corner, furious, and grabs Villanelle by the lapels of her jacket, hauling her back into Eve’s apartment. 

“HELLO EVE IT IS I, HERE I AM KEEPING TO MY ALLOTTED TIME” Villanelle continues to bellow all the way through the doorway, only stopping when Eve releases her grip and flicks a palm at her, aiming to slap her. 

Villanelle grabs her wrist out of the air, and pulls Eve towards her. 

“Let’s not start that again, because one thing will lead to another and then you’ll be kissing me.”

Eve struggles briefly, extremely aware that she cannot just stand pressed up against Villanelle without demonstrating some kind of resistance.

“That’s what you want.”

“No Eve, that’s what you want.”

“But you want it too.”

Villanelle smiles, as if she’s won a great victory, and Eve realises just a second too late that she has. 

“Close the door Eve, please think of your neighbours.”

…..

“Why are you here?”

Villanelle shrugs, as though indicating that she has to exist somewhere so it might as well be here.

“It’s your birthday.”

Eve looks deadpan at Villanelle until she laughs slightly and then looks away.

“I’m here to clean your apartment” she says, standing up straighter and waving a vague hand at the space that contains the entirety of Eve’s life.

“I had a job, you know?”

Villanelle raises her eyebrows.

“You did?”

“Yes. I made dumplings. I spent ten hours a day making dumplings.”

Villanelle approaches this statement with the cautiously suspicious air of someone carrying out an unscheduled autopsy.

“Dumplings?”

“Yes. People ate them.”

“You were good at this job?”

“I wasn’t bad at it.”

“But you no longer have this job?”

“No. I left. Carolyn came to my work one day to show me a file about you, and then I didn’t feel safe any more.”

Villanelle somehow grows quieter.

“You have been trying to avoid me.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“I thought I had succeeded.”

“Crazy of me then, to try and avoid you.”

Villanelle sighs, and then rubs her fingers across her forehead. “Why must we go around in these circles?”

“Because you keep showing up and doing the same thing. You know that repeatedly doing the same thing to no different result is a sign of madness?”

Villanelle glares at that.

“You know that when water spirals down a plug hole eventually the two sides meet, just before they vanish into the darkness?”

Eve swallows.

“Why are you here?”

“It’s your birthday. And the last time we met there _was_ a different result.”

“So?”

“So I’m here to give you what you want?”

“The opportunity to kick your ass and then pray that I never see you again?”

Villanelle shrugs, walking towards her. Eve shuffles back from her position on the edge of the bed, mainly to try and get away from her, and then is utterly askance when Villanelle just takes this as an opportunity to straddle her.

“No, no, I didn’t mean-”

“No?” Villanelle asks, quietly.

Eve says nothing. Her breath seems to have stopped, somewhere towards the top of her throat.

She nearly says no. Her lips part, her tongue touches the roof of her mouth.

But then, if she says no… Villanelle might listen to her. 

Villanelle cautiously relaxes down, until she is just sitting on top of Eve. She tilts her head to one side.

She waits.

“You know… sometimes you feel like the only other person in the world.”

A smile flickers over Villanelle’s face, and Eve is furious because she hadn’t meant it as a compliment, the impulse had been to lodge a fucking _complaint_ , but now it is out there Eve knows it is a compliment, and maybe that’s what she had been aiming for all along.

“Please explain.”

“No one else feels real. They all feel like watercolours, washed out in the rain, and then there is you, and you’re so- no one else understands- you understand that I’m telling you all this because I’m mad at you, okay?”

Villanelle just looks at her, lips parted, and then huffs out an abrupt laugh.

“You understand that it would be less romantic to tell me that you think about me all the time? You understand that it would be less romantic to just kiss me?”

Eve waits to be kissed, because that’s what is going to happen next.

Villanelle just looks at her. She licks her lips once. Eve teeters forward.

“Well?” Villanelle asks. “You are the one who instigates these things, hurry up, I haven’t got all nig-”

This time, Eve’s hand does manage to connect with Villanelle’s face, and she slaps so hard Eve almost gasps, because did she mean that? She didn’t mean-

Villanelle grabs her wrist, looking briefly furious, and pushes forward, until Eve is lying on the bed, Villanelle hovering above her, gripping Eve’s arm above her head.

“Please don’t do that” she asks, as though she is giving Eve a choice.

She waits.

Jesus Christ, Eve thinks.

“Just do it” she hisses.

“No” Villanelle murmurs.

“Why not, what are you waiting for?”

Villanelle surprises her by grinning for a moment.

“I guess I like the validation?”

Eve summons her strength to jerk her head up, to try and connect in that brutal way instead, but-

But.

“I need you to understand that I hate you.”

Villanelle nods soberly.

“You hate me most ardently.”

Eve lifts her free hand, and it is meant to push Villanelle away from her, but instead it just presses weakly at her shoulder, and then her palm slides over the material of her jacket, and then-

Villanelle’s eyes widen as Eve’s fingers stroke across her neck, and then she has reached the bun at the back of Villanelle’s head, and tugs slightly.

“Take it down, I’ve never seen it down, I-”

“Seriously?” Villanelle says, sounding doubtful, before sitting up, reaching her hands behind her head.

Now, Eve thinks. Now she shoves Villanelle backwards while she is off balance, and then runs, just fucking runs-

Eve follows her up, and then somehow she-

She puts her hands at Villanelle’s neck, and then she presses her mouth to the underside of Villanelle’s jaw.

It’s startling, it startles her, which is why she just stops.

She’s so warm, and she’s wearing the same perfume, the same fucking perfume.

After a second, Villanelle seems to remember about breathing. She gasps slightly, and the vibration is under Eve’s lips. Eve can feel her chest rise and fall against her own.

Moving slowly, aware that her own breathing is matching Villanelle’s, Eve removes her lips, but she doesn’t seem able to go anywhere. She brushes her nose faintly across Villanelle’s skin. Villanelle adjusts slightly, tilting her head away so Eve has even more of her neck to explore. Eve remembers doing the same, against a fridge with wet hair.

She kisses her again, but this time her teeth linger, biting slow until Villanelle gasps slightly.

Eve remembers something else.

“Wear it down.”

She is completely unprepared for the way that Villanelle moans.

Villanelle’s hands are still at the back of her head, and she manages to start again, tugging slightly at her hair to unravel the tie. 

Eve’s hands trace up her sides, she’s barely aware she is doing it, but Villanelle doesn’t miss it. Her hips rock forward on Eve’s lap, and then her hair is down, and then-

Villanelle’s hands are on both sides of her face.

“You know you want this.”

“And so do you” Eve manages.

Villanelle kisses her. 

She kisses her hard, and Eve opens her mouth easily, and suddenly Villanelle is everywhere.

Eve stops being able to describe things accurately, because all she can really track is Villanelle’s tongue in her mouth and then it isn’t there any more, because now Villanelle is at her neck, sucking and then biting, and Eve is wriggling further back on the bed, and Villanelle is following her.

She’s gasping.

And her hands, and _god_ Eve has thought about those hands, her hands are at Eve’s waist band, and Eve is kicking off her shoes, and Villanelle has managed to undo Eve’s fly before Eve pulls her down towards her again. Villanelle has to catch herself on one hand to stop herself from just collapsing on top of Eve, and Eve presses her mouth to Villanelle’s, moaning and riding her hips up to try and force some kind of pressure against Villanelle’s remaining, hopelessly incompetent hand.

“Jesus, Eve…. fuck”

“Hurry up”

“I’m trying, god-”

Eve is cursing her, and lifting up her hips because these pants were always slightly too tight and now she’s having to peel her way out of them and she just wants Villanelle between her legs _now_ , not in a minute, now. It has to be now, it always has to be now, Eve spends every minute waiting for Villanelle to appear, and if she takes too long Villanelle will disappear again, and-

“Eve, I can’t- you have to-

Villanelle tries to pull away from her again, to get both hands on to the resistant pants that have _no sense_ of cooperation, but Eve will not let her, and when Villanelle rears up Eve follows her, turning her and kissing her, until Villanelle is flat on the mattress and Eve is on top of her.

Villanelle’s hands are on her breasts, and Eve knows that her tits are hard enough for Villanelle to feel them through her bra by the way Villanelle moans, and bites at her bottom lip.

And these _fucking pants._

“Wait.”

Eve hauls herself off Villanelle, and then, when she is standing next to the bed, she yanks her own pants down, and then drags down her own underwear-

“Okay, I am not complaining, but I had imagined this all to be a little more artful-”

“Shut up, you can do artful later” Eve says, as she climbs back on top of Villanelle, who looks down at Eve once, and then back up at her.

“This is hot.”

“Yes, obviously it is hot, why must you keep stating the obvious like some kind of audio descriptions bot, just-”

Villanelle’s hands are on her hips, and then at her shirt, as though signalling her desire to have Eve completely naked on top of her, but Eve will not let her, and grabs her hands.

‘No, now, I need you now”

Villanelle nods, and she’s still wearing her jacket, but Eve cannot begin to fathom any idea other than now, now-

Eve gasps, the first time Villanelle runs one fingertip over her wetness, and she looks so fucking smug, Eve just-

“I fucked Hugo like this, listening to you.”

Villanelle pauses, and stares up at her. Eve elaborates.

‘Listening to you fuck yourself. I fucked Hugo.”

Villanelle stares at her for a couple of years, and then adds a fingertip. Eve gasps again.

“I married a Spanish woman, thinking about you.”

Eve blinks a couple of times, and then she wants, she wants, god why are there even words, why are they talking?

“Okay, well there’s a lot to unpack there, so maybe we should-”

Villanelle nods fervently. “Yeah, afterwards we could maybe-”

“Okay-” and then Eve gasps because suddenly Villanelle’s fingers are right there, and then they are _there_ and 

“oh god”

“Fuck, you feel-”

“Good, yes, I know, please concentrate on-”

“Eve you cannot make me stop talking, I think articulation of facts can often heighten the experience-” 

“Stop talking, god-”

“I’ll stop talking if you take off the rest of your clothes”

“If you stop talking I won’t smother you with a pillow, how about that? Also, did you just forget you had another hand?”

…..

She comes hard.

Of course she does, of course she does. This was never the story.

Just before she comes, Villanelle comes up to meet her, using stomach muscles Eve vows to investigate later. 

She comes up to meet her, and she wraps her free arm around Eve’s waist, encouraging Eve to keep moving.

Eve has lost all her words by now, so can’t express her gratitude, but she does rest both forearms on Villanelle’s shoulders, letting her hands tangle distractedly in Villanelle’s hair. She lets this support become an extra point of leverage, riding Villanelle’s fingers now with focus, searching, searching, because she’s so close, she’s so close-

Villanelle presses her face into the space just underneath Eve’s jaw. Eve can feel her murmuring, and then manages to understand the words.

Word.

“Eve… Eve… Eve…Eve…”

It’s at number eleven that Eve comes.

And she comes hard.

…..

“Take off the rest of your clothes.”

Eve smiles tiredly, and then stretches slightly on the bed.

“Who’s birthday is it?”

“Mine” Villanelle says shortly, “Take off the rest of your clothes.”

…..

Villanelle has a scar on her stomach.

“How did you get this” Eve asks innocently, hovering her mouth over the mark.

“Some asshole who didn’t pay enough attention to my tits did it.”

Eve rolls her eyes, and pinches slightly with her fingers, enjoying the way Villanelle gasps.

“My hand is literally right here-“

“Your mouth Eve, put your mouth back on me-”

Eve comes back up the bed, and she isn’t actually complaining, because the noises that Villanelle makes are actually indecent, and the rub of Villanelle’s nipple across her tongue, the way that Villanelle grabs at her head and tries to guide Eve’s movements, the way that Villanelle jerks her hips up against Eve’s stomach in time to Eve’s bites-

Villanelle is wet. Eve can feel her.

“Who’s in charge right now?”

Villanelle grunts slightly, and then seems to hear what Eve says, and looks at her.

“What?”

“Who’s leading? Who’s driving?”

“What?”

“Because-” and here Eve puts her mouth back on Villanelle’s nipple and bites hard enough that Villanelle hisses. She runs the back of her tongue over the raised skin, soothing.

“Because I want to go down on you, but I’m not sure if I’m telling you that I’m going to go down on you, or asking you whether I can, or maybe just-”

“Oh my god do you want a written invitation?”

Eve snorts, and then rests her forehead briefly against Villanelle’s chest.

“Well I don’t know, I’m hesitating because I also want to do this” and she slides her thigh between Villanelle’s legs and pushes higher, until they’re both rocking against the friction, and the words have been replaced with moans.

“Fuck” Villanelle manages to gasp, and then, probably because she hasn’t come yet, she’s pushing at Eve’s shoulders.

Pushing down.

“Go down on me. You can pretend I said please if you want, it’s up to you.”

….

Villanelle grips Eve’s hair hard when she comes.

She’s riding up into Eve’s mouth, and the feel of her underneath her tongue, the way that Villanelle feels weak and strong and helpless and controlling and-

Villanelle comes with a sudden cry and a twist, and Eve tries to keep her mouth moving but she’s just too strong, and Villanelle’s gasping for her to stop. 

“Stop?” Eve asks, raising her head.

Villanelle is flushed, and extremely naked, and Eve is very aware of how wet she is. Villanelle brushes a couple of fingers over her cheekbone, in a way that almost feels fond.

“Stop, for the moment” she clarifies.

“I don’t want to” Eve says, and then kisses at Villanelle’s thigh.

Villanelle breathes out heavily. Under Eve’s lips, her muscle is still shaking.

“That’s how life works, Eve. We stop, and hope we get a chance to start again.”

“What if I don’t let us start again? What if this is it? What if this is the only-” Eve cuts off. 

Villanelle sighs. “You are in charge of that, surely?”

“But, I don’t know… I don’t know what I’ll feel tomorrow.”

Eve worries that she has gone too far after a second, and then when she looks up at Villanelle her eyes are dark, inscrutable.

And then Villanelle shrugs.

“Better make the most of the right now, then.”

Eve swallows, and then nods once.

“Come here” Villanelle says, and Eve has no idea if it’s a request or a command.

She doesn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TOP/BOTTOM DYNAMICS ARE OUTDATED ANYWAY
> 
> @yotoob on twitter - what do you have to lose?
> 
> thank you for reading


	2. Scenery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw, any further chapters will also be nsfw, don't come here if you have a job.

It becomes a habit.

A bad habit? Villanelle isn’t sure. Besides, that has always been a confusing concept. If the habit is so bad then why does it feel good? No one repeatedly does something they know they shouldn’t unless it feels good.

Some habits are virtuous, some habits are indulgent, but it’s all _good._ People avoid the bad, and seek out the good.

Villanelle thinks that this is maybe what it feels like to fall in love. Is that a habit? It had been described to her by the media as a startling thunderbolt from the blue, and maybe it was that as well. Maybe that’s what had happened. She’d seen Eve, and she was stricken. Nothing about Villanelle had been the same since, and maybe that was falling in love, maybe love is thunder in the ears and impossible month long silences and one or two or maybe three murders, just because how else is one supposed to process the feeling?

Maybe falling in love was murdering half her family in Russia, maybe falling in love was shooting someone in the back as they walked away from her, maybe falling in love was gifts and head butts and memorising the sound of Eve’s voice, so Villanelle can play it back to herself as she falls asleep.

Eve’s collar bones keep her awake at night, and _that_ was a new thing.

Habits are neither good nor bad, she decides. Or rather, all habits are good, but for different reasons. No judgement here.

Villanelle smiles and nods to herself, happy that she has solved this problem of human behaviour. Then she knocks on the door.

Eve’s new place is just a place, and Villanelle has no time to describe it. Why do people insist on descriptions all the time? It’s just scenery. And then there is Eve in the centre of it, beckoning over her shoulder that Villanelle should close the door behind her.

Villanelle closes the door. It’s wooden, and has been painted green. There, she thinks to herself. Scenery described.

“I was beginning to think you couldn’t find me.”

Villanelle shrugs in response, because she can always find her. 

“I was busy. I’m sorry. This is my first night back in London.”

Eve is wearing shorts, something that Villanelle doesn’t think she’s seen before. They look soft, and they’ve barely started before they stop, higher than mid thigh. 

Villanelle tries not to be too indulgent in her gaze, but Eve scoffs after a moment, and waves a hand around near her hips, as though trying to get Villanelle’s attention.

“It’s been warmer these past nights.”

Villanelle raises her eyebrows.

“Been thinking about me?”

Eve gives a half smile, and looks away, flipping the kettle on behind her.

“Just like you’ve been thinking about me. Your first night back in London?”

“My first hour” Villanelle breathes.

Eve’s hair is down. She’s in a sweater, a big, navy thing that she can’t possibly have been sleeping in. Eve must have just thrown it on to check who was at the door. 

Her hair is down, and she’s probably just wearing a slip under that sweater, or maybe nothing at all, because the neckline is wide and Villanelle can’t see any sign of straps. And her collar bones are-

“You okay over there?”

Villanelle realises she’s just standing in the doorway to the tiny kitchen. Just standing and gazing and-

“You should take at least one layer off, I’m beginning to feel underdressed.”

Villanelle complies, removing her jacket and placing it carefully over the one chair in the kitchen.

Next to Eve, the kettle rattles to an asthmatic boil. Villanelle nods to it. 

“Was it tea, or coffee you were going for?”

Eve looks at the kettle, and then shrugs. 

“Just something to do with my hands, to be honest. Why is it that you always-” Eve breaks off, and then raises a hand to her forehead, laughing to herself slightly before continuing.

“Why do you always look so good? I’m always in scruffs and you look like you’ve just been peeled from a magazine.”

“You look good too. You always look good.”

“I don’t, you are just wilfully blind. Did you get hit on the head?”

“You head butted me, you tell me.”

Eve smiles at her fondly, as if she’s reminiscing over their first date. Then she gestures at Villanelle. 

“Well, just for future reference, next time please try and dress down. Or give me some warning so I can dress up-”

Villanelle interrupts her. “Why would I give you warning when you look like all of my fantasies at once? Tell me if you are wearing anything under that sweater.”

Eve just looks at her. Villanelle looks back, at her hair, and her collarbones, and her legs, god her legs, and-

“Please” she remembers. “Please tell me.”

“You are the embodiment of a drunk man sexting, do you know that?”

“Sorry, I usually do better, you’ve just taken me by surprise with the shorts.”

The kitchen is small. Enjoy that, description gods. It is small, and it contains one chair, one kettle, and Eve, Eve, Eve-

Villanelle nods at the kettle.

“Could you make me a cup of tea?”

“Tea” Eve asks, startled, as though she’s never heard of such a thing. Villanelle nods.

“I’m not going to drink it, I just want to watch how you do it. I hear it is important for the English.”

“I’m not English.”

“Okay, well make me coffee.”

“Seriously, it’s like one in the morning-”

“Please?”

Eve tips her head to one side, but then turns away from Villanelle, reaching in the cupboard behind her. As she reaches up, the hem of her sweater rides up, and Villanelle enjoys the small stretch of Eve’s skin that is briefly revealed.

And then Villanelle is behind her.

“I have a small confession to make” she murmurs.

Eve goes still. Villanelle watches as her fingertips graze over the surface of the kitchen counter. She wonders if she is already wet.

“I’m not here to provide you with absolution. But you can tell me anyway.”

“I didn’t want the coffee.”

“I am shocked and appalled.”

Villanelle’s hands brush slightly against the material of Eve’s sweater, and then she’s scrunched fistfuls of it to both palms. Blue, she thinks distractedly. Soft.

Eve tips her head back, and Villanelle takes the final step closer, so they are pressed together.

“This reminds me of the first time. In the kitchen. You let me undress you and then you threatened me with a knife and then you wanted me to kiss you and then and then”

It’s what Villanelle wants to say, but instead she just manages “God you’re hot.”

Eve breathes out ‘uh huh”, but Villanelle’s face is in her hair now and her hands aren’t so much feeling the sweater as the body of the woman beneath it. Eve stretches back into her, and she presses her ass back into Villanelle in a way that has her growling with want.

“Let me have you” she manages. 

“This is your first hour back in London?”

“First minute.”

Eve takes one of Villanelle’s hands, pulls it underneath the sweater and up, until there is a hardened nipple beneath Villanelle’s palm. She squeezes, and Eve moans. 

“Fuck baby, I think about you all the time.”

Eve moans again, and this is going to be five minutes max, Villanelle had planned something far more elaborate but then Eve had thrown everything out of the window by wearing _shorts_.

Eve must be thinking the same thing because she’s muttering “now Vill, now.”

As Eve pulls off her sweater, Villanelle’s hand disappears beneath her shorts, and she is wet, Villanelle’s fingers are greeted with slick heat that burns all the way up her arm, so hot she can taste it in her mouth.

Eve wasn’t wearing a slip, so now it is just Eve’s skin, pressing back into her. Villanelle takes a half step forward, trying to press Eve’s ass against her own needs, but there’s nowhere to go and so they’re pressed against the kitchen counter.

Villanelle’s open mouth is against Eve’s ear, but then Eve tilts her head back and turns, just so she can lick at Villanelle’s lips in a needy, desperate-

First minute, first second, first breath, first touch-

They’ve had four encounters since the first. Villanelle can taste each one on the tip of her tongue, can count them in her own footsteps, in the throb from her heart that shoots to her fingertips.

Eve moans again when Villanelle pinches at her nipple, and then spreads her one hand to rub fretfully at both, thumb to one and pinkie to the other, and pinkie is such a ridiculous word, and Villanelle wants to have her mouth between her legs, wants to be deep inside her, from behind, from above, kneeling, in bed, on top of her, underneath her, just let me have you, just let me -

Eve gasps when Villanelle swaps hands, and she’s not fully ambidextrous but it’s worth it to know that she is now coating Eve’s tits with her own wetness from between her thighs.  
Eve gasps, again, and she’s got on arm wrapped around Villanelle’s head, as though holding on for dear life, and the other is gripping the kitchen counter, using it as leverage as she times her thrusts-

“Your other hand, fuck bring your other hand back.”

The kettle is a polished metal, with a black handle. Just for the description fans, Villanelle thinks, as she slides her fingers over Eve’s clit and picks up the rhythm that she knows will work. 

God it’s only been five days, but she feels like she hasn’t breathed since the last time they were like this.

Eve is moaning higher now, and Villanelle knows it’s been four minutes max, and maybe she is just like the drunk man sexting, but she just wants everything all at once, why is it so unreasonable to expect to have everything all at once, all the time-

“Baby” Eve is whispering “Fuck me baby.”

She wants to put her mouth on her, she wants to slide deep inside her, she wants to have Eve’s head between her legs as Villanelle grips at her hair and works her clit onto her tongue-

There’s a cup. It’s green.

Eve’s hair smells like coconuts.

And her skin-

The way she is moving-

“Villanelle, I’m gonna-”

“Yes” Villanelle mutters, “Yes, please, fuck, baby-”

And then she comes.

Avoid the bad, and seek out the good.

It sounds so easy.

Maybe Eve had been stricken as well.

…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOR THE DESCRIPTION GODS
> 
> @yotoob on twitter


End file.
